


The Moon Is Down

by ure_pi



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale, Gender-neutral Reader, brief mentions of other monsters, just general spookiness and gloom, platonic I guess, reader has other things to worry about than love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 13:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ure_pi/pseuds/ure_pi
Summary: But if I can catch a glimpse of youIt helps me feel at easeIt helps me sleepYou still want to escape the underground, but for now, you're just happy there's a roof over your head.





	The Moon Is Down

**Author's Note:**

> This will be about 2-3 chapters long. Nothing too scary, just bleak.
> 
> I've taken some liberties with the AU, so please read this with an open mind♡
> 
> Title and description quote from [a song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASO-W3KZJsE) by Radical Face.

It’s a miracle you made it out of the ruins alive.

 

You’re a little worse for wear, with blood and grime caking your legs and dirt on your hands, but you’re alive. That fact alone fuels your steps as you crunch through the snow, ears pricked and eyes on the lookout for anything that could pose a danger. You move fast, not wanting to die in the cold. You did not do the things you’ve done just to succumb to low temperatures.

 

The goat in the ruins was the hardest to get past. Unlike the other monsters you met, she was nice. She almost had you there, with the warm but not very appetizing pies, and the warm but musty bed. You could almost look past that weird look in her eyes whenever she reached out to pet your hair, or the vice grip when she held you to her side in the kitchen. When you asked if you could leave, she turned to you with a grin you could only interpret as pained. She brushed off your query with the happy threat that children who don’t listen get turned into pies.

 

You refused to touch the pies after that.

 

The night after that threat, you made a break for the basement. She caught you with her fire magic, enough to hinder you but not enough to make you back down. You hit back, and you hit hard. You didn’t kill her, no. The way the smaller monsters simply disintegrated into dust with a well-meant blow had left a bad taste in your mouth.

 

She begged you at the last minute to reconsider, to stay with her and let her take care of you, but you turned your back on her and opened the door. It wasn’t until you’d crossed the rickety wooden bridge that you stopped hearing her wailing.

 

You suppose you spared her as thanks for the pies and shelter. It didn’t right with you to kill the only monster who showed you some form of kindness, even if she did threaten you. You think back on the monsters you did finish off, and shrugged it off as self defense. They kept attacking no matter how you pleaded, so you protected yourself.

 

Monsters are surprisingly weak, if you think about it. All those teeth and magic attacks and they still crumble when you really thought about hurting them.

 

Lost in your thoughts, you wander on through the snow.

 

—

 

The bear trap around you is blunt enough that it only just sinks beneath the skin. Still, it hurts. You’re bleeding, the snow around your foot turning crimson.

 

You scramble to reset the trap and release your foot, and in the commotion, you don’t hear heavy footsteps approach. It's only when you see a shadow fall over you, only when you hear the deep, scratchy breathing coming from behind you, that you stop moving.

 

“Are you hurt, little human?”

 

Something colder than the frost shoots through you. You remain hunched over your foot, your mind frantically coming up with all the possible escape plans. You end up dead in most of them.

 

The shadow moves, and something huge crouches beside you.

 

“That is not how you release the trap, small one.”

 

Dirty red gloves reach out, and you fall back with a muffled scream. The movement makes your ankle flare up in pain, turning your vision white. You hear a low clicking sound, and finally your foot is free. Blood still rushes from the puncture wounds, but at least you’re out of the trap.

 

“There, you’re free!”

 

You haven’t dared to look at the monster. All you see are long, dirty bones and faded red gloves. It stands up, and extends a hand towards you.

 

A few moments pass before you act on your instinct and make a dash for it. Pain in your leg be damned, you will not fall for another monster’s kindness again. You don’t make it far before you hear something grunt, and then you’re yanked back by the collar of your sweater. The snow cushions your fall, and when you open your eyes, the monster looms over you.

 

This is it. You are going to be gnawed to death by a freakishly tall skeleton. You imagine how those crooked teeth would crunch through your bones, and you feel tears prick at your eyes. This is it. The monster bends down toward you and you squeeze your eyes shut, letting tears stream down the sides of your face.

 

Instead of crushing your head, you feel hands digging under you and scooping you up. The monster gives you a rough shake, getting the snow off of you. It starts walking, taking great loping strides through the forest.

 

“We cannot have you running around with an injured foot,” it says. “We must patch it up as soon as we can.” In this close proximity, you smell rust and dampness in his breath. The crooked teeth are stained, most likely from eating helpless humans like you.

 

The monster takes your silence as acquiescence, and breaks into a horrifying smile.

 

“Perhaps you can even stay for dinner!”

 

Yeah, stay for dinner. You’ll end up roasted on a spit. Choking back a sob, you remain silent as the monster brings you to your doom.

 

—

 

Dinner is delicious. It's a thin soup with what looks like a root vegetable, but it's warm and savory. The taller skeleton says it’s been so long since they had a guest, so he dug around in the pantry for ingredients.

 

The monster - Papyrus, he insisted you call him - fixed your foot clumsily, but you’re glad that the chances of infection and possible amputation are lessened for the time being.

 

His home is situated in a forest clearing, and the many traps set around it made you thankful he’d carried you through them. This just means it’ll be trickier to escape. The thought of being held captive makes it hard for you to down the soup, no matter how good it tastes.

 

“Something wrong?” The voice comes from across you, and belongs to the other skeleton of the household.

 

Papyrus had been scary, but this guy takes the cake. There is a gaping hole where it looks like someone had tried to bash his skull, and you make a conscious effort not to look him in the face. A single red iris stares at you from his left socket, and his other socket is unnervingly empty.

 

You swallow thickly. “Nothin’.”

 

You keep your interactions with Sans to a minimum, ever since your first encounter. After Papyrus had dressed your wound, you promptly passed out on the lumpy couch. You woke up to a skull with its single red iris staring at you way too close, making you scream out. Papyrus had come running, and it took him a while to calm you down. He then introduced you to his older brother Sans, who hasn’t stopped grinning at you. It’s a smile devoid of mirth; you wonder if there’s anything to even smile about in this hell hole.

 

Picking at your food, you can’t help but feel both sets of eyes on you. You glance at their plates and realize they’ve long since finished their soup. They look at you with mixed expressions; Papyrus is expectant, his features set in a macabre rendering of a smile, and Sans is… You can’t figure out what he’s thinking, but his single iris follows your spoon from the bowl to your mouth.

 

Both of their stares make you more nervous than necessary, and suddenly you lose your appetite. You set the spoon down beside the bowl, mumbling that you’re full.

 

"You should finish it."

 

It's Sans who speaks, and he does not sound happy. His voice is already flat and monotonous, but there's something else in his tone that makes your hair stand on end.

 

"I said I'm full."

 

"You're wasting it."

 

"I don't _want_ it—"

 

You don't remember how it happens, but suddenly you're thrown on your back and Papyrus is shouting. There's a strange weight in your chest, and it's hard to breathe or get up. Panic starts to well up as you struggle against this invisible force. Papyrus is still shouting, but his voice seems so far away. You close your eyes, just wishing for everything to be over—

 

All at once, air rushes into your lungs and you choke on the sudden breath. You move your limbs tentatively, then push yourself up. Sans is still glaring at you, his red iris all but taking up the whole socket. You feel yourself being pulled up by Papyrus, who wraps you up in his long, thin arms.

 

"That is no way to treat my friend," Papyrus says to Sans, his usually cheerful voice taking on a tinge of hurt.

 

Sans shrugs and grabs your bowl of soup. "If they don't want to eat, they won't eat at all." He downs the soup quickly and drops it into the sink, the clatter resounding off the walls. He brushes past you on his way out of the kitchen, not once looking at you. "Stop wasting time and just eat 'em, Paps."

 

His words leave you cold, and you break away from Papyrus' arms.

 

"If you're gonna kill me, just do it," you say, turning away from him. "Don't pretend to be my friend."

 

"But you are my friend?"

 

There's something about Papyrus that makes you lower your guard. It could be the fact that despite his gruesome exterior, he has only treated you with kindness. Well, so did that goat, you think bitterly, but you haven't picked up on possible ulterior motives from Papyrus' actions. He did help and feed you, and he's providing you shelter. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice still urges you to run, but you're too tired to listen.

 

"Do you do this to all humans you capture?"

 

"You are the first one I've found alive. I do not kill - that's what the traps are for."

 

That doesn't comfort you at all. You'll try and remember not to take any more missteps in the forest if you ever get out. After a few moments, you nod. There's no point in arguing any further, and you don't have the energy. That strange feeling in your chest still bothers you, and you rub at the spot slightly.

 

He leaves you standing in the middle of the kitchen as he washes the dishes. You take a seat at the table again, resting your head on it. The domestic sounds and Papyrus' slow humming lull you to sleep. It's been a while since you felt some semblance of safety, ever since the first night with the goat, but look how that turned out. Oh, well. If you're killed in your sleep tonight, at least you'll die peacefully.

 

Your eyes close shut, and soon you're asleep at the dining table.

 

—

 

Days pass, and you're still alive.

 

You hardly come out of the basement. Papyrus usually pokes his head in to tell you he's going out, or that he's come back from the woods. Once a day he brings you food, and sits with you until you finish every bite. You learn that they do not waste what little food they have, and that Sans was angry the first night because of that. Papyrus tells you about this, and also that Sans is truly a kind brother. You scoff, but apologize when he falls silent.

 

You start to look forward to seeing Papyrus.

 

He stays longer after you finish eating, telling you about the things he's seen outside. Sometimes it's a funny-shaped snow poff, once it was a rabbit he let slip past his traps because it had babies trailing behind. One day, he comes back looking a little tired, covered in fresh scratches and blood. You know for a fact that monsters don't bleed the way you do, and approach the topic cautiously.

 

"I saw a human today."

 

You can't help but feel a little excited. You know that humans occasionally fall into Mount Ebott like you did, but you've never seen another one. Papyrus doesn't meet your gaze when you probe for more, and his voice is quieter than usual as he continues.

 

"They were on the main path to Snowdin, and they were running. The guard dogs were chasing them, and… And then the human was..."

 

Your blood runs cold.

 

"I can still hear their screams. I tried to help, fend off the dogs..." He trails off again, and your tongue feels thick as you ask the question that's on your mind.

 

"Where did the blood come from?"

 

Papyrus looks at you shamefully. "There was some left, and my brother and I haven't had meat in days. I took just enough for us--"

 

You don't wait for the end of the sentence before you start yelling at Papyrus until your throat feels raw. You feel betrayed, hurt that he called himself your friend when he would do this to another human. Papyrus doesn't even try to stop you, and lets you tire yourself out. He reaches to wipe your tears but you flinch so hard that he is taken aback.

 

A small part of you knows that he couldn't have helped himself, that it's just how life is for monsters in here. He could have just killed you the day he found you in the woods, but he patched you up and kept you safe. Right now, your frustration at your predicament drowns out that sympathetic voice, and you're scurrying away from him. He sees you huddled on the thin mattress, still crying in anger, and he leaves quietly.

 

Papyrus stops coming down to visit you, and as much as you try to deny it, you miss the interaction. Him not visiting you also means no food, since Sans isn't making social calls. A few more days pass before you cave into hunger and decide to climb the stairs and head out of the basement.

 

It's dark, and you fumble your way to where you think the kitchen is. Your eyes adjust to the gloom, and you find yourself in the living room instead. On the couch sits a figure, and from the jagged spikes breaking the smooth curve of the skull, you realize it's Sans.

 

"What did you say to Paps?" he asks without turning around.

 

Your stomach drops.

 

"I didn't say anything."

 

"He says you yelled at him."

 

A stab of guilt. "I was frustrated. I'm sorry."

 

Sans turns slowly and fixes his red eye on you. "Tell him that yourself." He gets up and makes his way deeper into the house. You hear heavy footfalls up the stairs, and then a door slams shut.

 

You fall asleep on the couch and wake up when you feel someone touching you. A scream forms in your throat as your eyes fly open, but realize it's just Papyrus. He was tucking you in with a thin blanket, but draws his hands back quickly as you sit up.

 

"You will catch a cold, little human," he smiles at you. Something about it is off, as if he's still afraid you'll lash out at him. The both of you stare at each other in silence until he starts to move away from the couch. "I will be off."

 

"Come back safe."

 

The words spill from your lips before you know it. Papyrus' face splits into a happier grin, and he nods in reply. You watch as he leaves through the door, into the dark snowy outdoors. Pulling the blanket around you, it doesn't take you long to fall back asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
